"But I am forgotten;--none heed
Me--the brown soil where it grew,
That drank in by day
The sun's blessed ray,
And gathered at twilight the dew;--
That fed it by night and by day
With nectar drops slowly distilled
In the secret alembic of earth,
And diffused through each delicate vein
Till the sunbeams were charmed to remain,
Entranced in a dream of delight,
Stealing in with their arrows of light
Through the calyx of delicate green,
The close-folded petals between,
Down into its warm hidden heart--
Until, with an ecstatic start
At the rapture, so wondrous and new,
That throbbed at its innermost heart,
Wide opened the beautiful eyes,
And lo! with a sudden surprise
Caught the glance of the glorious sun--
The ardent and worshipful one--
Looking down from his heavenly place,
And the blush of delighted surprise
Remained in its warm glowing dyes,
Evermore on that radiant face
"Then mortals, in worshipful mood,
Bent over my wonderful flower,
And called it 'the fairest,'
The richest, the rarest,
The pride of the blossoming bower
But I am forgotten.
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